That could be an interesting project. The next time I speak with Julian I’ll put the bug in his ear. He’d probably love that kind of thing.
I get out of bed and answer the door. There’s a police officer standing there. A young man with a badge that says Wojtczak.
“Professor Cray?”
I nod and wipe the sleep out of my eyes.
“I’ve been asked to follow you over to the police station. They want to get your formal statement.”
“Okay. Let me get a couple things.”
He waits patiently while I get dressed and gather up my notes.
“So you’re the guy that found the body? I heard you discovered some kind of plant that only grows on dead people.”
Ugh, the grapevine. “It’s not quite that simple.” I sling my backpack over my shoulder. “Any word if they’ve tracked down Devon and Amber?”
“Not yet.”
“Have they exhumed the body yet?”
“Not that I know of. State police forensics were all over it this morning. They got there early. I think the head medical examiner was doing an on-site examination.”
I’m glad they’re proceeding carefully. Chelsea’s burial site could yield lots of interesting data points.
We arrive at the station, and I’m led to a conference room significantly larger than the one Gunther interrogated me in last night.
I freeze in the doorway when I see Sheriff Tyson sitting at the far end of the table next to Detective Glenn.
The scene sets off a painful flashback. Of course they should be here, but the stress from our last interaction still haunts me.
Glenn looks up at me. “What happened to your eye, Professor?” His tone is cordial.
“Long story.”
I’m given a spot to sit at the other end of the table.
Whitmyer enters the room wearing a polo with the Hudson Creek Police logo. His boots are muddy. He’s probably been out there since this morning.
“Professor Cray.” He shakes my hand.
“Is it her?” I ask.
He gives Tyson a glance. She nods back. I guess they have some kind of arrangement for how the case is going to be handled. I’m glad to see them working well together.
“It is, Professor. It’s Chelsea Buchorn. Now, since everyone is here, I’d like you to take us through the series of events that led you here.” He gestures to my black eye. “I wouldn’t leave anything out. This is about Chelsea and Juniper.”
I explain to them everything I said to Gunther. I give them an overview of MAAT and how it led me to Hudson Creek. I explain precisely how we found the body and give them some references in case they want to check up on them.
It’s exhausting. They interrupt me a few times for details, but there’s no finger-pointing. There’s no accusations.
When I finish, I set the thumb drive on the table. “It’s all here. How to find the next one, I think.”
All through this, Sheriff Tyson watched me carefully. She let Glenn ask the questions. Occasionally she pointed to something on a list, but she never spoke.
When she finally does, it startles me.
“Professor Cray, I want to apologize for how we treated you. It was obvious you were under a lot of stress dealing with the death of a friend. We should have listened to what you had to say.”
I’m beside myself. My tongue fumbles for words. “Thank you.”
Detective Glenn stands up. “I respect your perseverance.” He begins to applaud.
The entire room starts clapping. It’s a surreal moment. I feel myself welling up. “I just wish Juniper didn’t have to die. Or Chelsea.”
Whitmyer picks up the thumb drive and plants a firm hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to make sure Fish and Wildlife gets a copy of this.”
“Great. Great,” I reply before it sinks in. “Wait? Fish and Wildlife? What about the law enforcement agencies?” I look around the room, confused.
“I know this is stressful for you,” Whitmyer says. “I spoke with Sheriff Tyson and Detective Glenn about the prior incident. Grieving is hard to deal with.
“We’re happy to find you some help. We have a few counselors out here. Good ones.”
I search their faces for an explanation. “What about the murder investigation? What about getting the killer?”
Whitmyer exchanges glances with Tyson and Glenn. “Theo, I know you don’t want to accept this. But it was a bear. Just like Juniper. Dr. Wilson, the chief medical examiner for the state, is returning with the body right now. He says all of the wounds are consistent with a bear attack.”
“But she was buried . . .” My voice begins to rise.
“Bears do that,” says Glenn. “And she was out there a long time. You pointed out yourself how erosion would help conceal the body.”
I’m having another flashback to the last time I was in this situation. Getting excited only put me in a jail cell.
From the way Tyson is watching me, I can tell she’s counting down the seconds until I lash out.
I want to flip the fucking table over and scream. I don’t.
I stay calm.
“What about Amber Harrison’s statement?”
“I took her initial one,” says Whitmyer. “She was as high as a kite. And she mentioned the possibility of a bear.”
“She’s convinced that it’s a man now,” I reply, trying to keep the edge off my words.
“Maybe so. But a statement made now, if we could find her, wouldn’t carry much weight. How reliable are memories the farther out you get?”
Not very. I just nod my head. “But they’re going to do a full forensics examination?”
“Absolutely.” He gives me a smile.
“And the data I collected?”
“I’ll look it over myself. But just listen to me. Fish and Wildlife might get a lot out of this. So don’t throw that out.”
“Okay,” I say softly. “May I leave?”
Whitmyer escorts me to the lobby. “I want to shake your hand. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Long ride back. Are you leaving today?”
“If you don’t need anything else,” I answer quietly.
“I’m sure we’ll be talking a lot on the phone.”
I say goodbye and step outside. I can feel his eyes on me as he watches the sad Professor Don Quixote walk away.
There’s nothing left for me to do.
I tried.
I really tried.
Time to go home.
A van pulls into the parking lot. It’s marked MONTANA STATE MEDICAL EXAMINER.
Inside is Chelsea’s body.
I shouldn’t care. But I do. I should be leaving. But I don’t.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
RESURRECTIONIST
Science is filled with people who had to step outside what was considered socially acceptable. Roman physician Galen and Renaissance genius Leonardo da Vinci were forced to exhume bodies to better understand how they functioned. Because of this transgression, both men saved countless lives with their discoveries.
I tell myself I’m trying to save lives and this isn’t just a matter of proving that I’m right. There’s a killer out there, and the room full of people I just left can’t see the obvious.
I have to psych myself up for this. If I think about it too much, nothing will happen.
Stepping behind an SUV, I observe two men in medical examiner jumpsuits exit the van and enter the police station’s rear entrance.
If it had been any other kind of van, I never would have considered this. If her body was locked away in a morgue somewhere, it would be as far away from me psychologically as the surface of Mars.
But the van I’m staring at is a Dodge Sprinter. The same type used as an ambulance. When I worked as an EMT, the Sprinter was as familiar to me as my office.
It’s the familiarity that makes me feel like this isn’t a trespass. There’s also the fact that I could have taken samples from Chelsea’s body when we found her.
I didn’t, because I thought investigators would do a more thorough job of tracking down her murderer. I was wrong.
I wouldn’t know how to pick a lock if you put a gun to my head. Luckily, all of the Sprinter ambulances I worked with had a secret switch for unlocking them in the event you lose your keys while responding to a call.
A lockout could cost lives.
It doesn’t start the vehicle. It just opens the doors. All of them.
On mine, the switch was in front of the driver’s side front wheel.
I make sure nobody is around, then step over to the vehicle and reach down and feel for the button.